


The Lost Changeling

by Ravenof_flame



Series: The Changeling Saga [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Irish Mythology
Genre: Child Abuse, Pre-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenof_flame/pseuds/Ravenof_flame
Summary: Harry was quite a strange child. Everyone in Privet Drive knew this. However, they had no idea how strange he was.
Series: The Changeling Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696999
Comments: 9
Kudos: 302
Collections: Harry Potter Fanfic Must Reads





	The Lost Changeling

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Harry was always a strange child. Not many people in Privet Drive knew all that much about the boy. They knew that he was the ward of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, two outstanding members of the society, who had taken the newly orphaned son of Petunia's sister out of the goodness of their hearts.  
Admittedly, none of them were even aware of the boy's existence until he began school. He was rather small, with dark hair and mysterious green eyes. Quite the opposite of the Dursleys' own child Dudley, who was a rather large boy.  
Another thing was that young Harry seemed to dress rather horribly, with old clothes falling apart at the seams. This would have raised many concerns. However, Petunia and Vernon were rather good at spreading gossip around the neighbourhood. So it did not take long for the residences of Privet Drive to see Harry as a troubled delinquent child who was forever ungrateful for his relatives kind hospitality.  
They ignored the fact that he was thin, and pale, and rather small for his age. After all, they did have to admit he was quite strange. According to his teachers, he was quiet, never speaking up in class and sitting slightly apart from his fellows.  
During breaks, when the other children would run and play, he would sit quietly under a tree. Sometimes he would be reading, other times he would be writing in a notebook. Sometimes he would only be gazing off at something that no one else could see.  
It was rather disconcerting for everyone. Some were concerned for the young boy's health. But many more were merely content to accept Vernon and Petunia Dursley's explanations of him being a troubled child. No other parent encouraged their children to interact with the boy, as they did not wish for their offspring to tangle with such a troubled child.  
No one truly knew Harry Potter, and many were either to trusting of the Dursleys' explanations, or too afraid to find out.

For as long as Harry could remember, he had felt as if something was missing from his life. He did not know what, it was just a feeling deep inside of him. Perhaps it was him wanting his parents. But somehow, he felt it was more than that.  
Just after he turned five, he was informed he was to go to school by his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He was also told not to embarrass them with any of his freakishness. Harry had no idea what freakishness was, but he did not wish to upset his relatives. He knew all too well what it was like when they got upset.

In school, he saw for the first time many children, of different ages of colourings. He was amazed. He was slightly intimidated, but hopeful. He had heard of the concept of "friends", from his cousin having his own friends over while Harry sat in his dark cupboard, alone.  
He hoped that he could make friends of his own. He thought that maybe this was what he was missing.  
However, every time he tried to approach any of the other students, they always turned and ran away. When they were made to sit in the classroom, they always kept some distance from him.  
Harry could see that the teacher saw this, but they did not say anything.  
At break times, he sat alone under a tree. No one wanted to play with him. So he sat alone, as he always was.  
He lent against the trunk of the tree and dug his fingers into the dirt.  
He had never been let outside of the Dursleys' house before. This, the earth, the tree, the air, were all new experiences for him. He breathed in deeply and felt a strange connection to the earth. It was as if he had found something that he had not even known he had lost. He never wanted to be parted from this again.  
His wish was granted, for soon after he began school, Aunt Petunia gave him a long list of chores. One of them was to tend her garden, which was Harry's favourite thing to do. Though, he knew better than to tell Aunt Petunia this, as he knew that she would instantly forbid him from setting foot outside if she even got the suspicion that he was having fun.  
Yet, even with this new discovery, he still felt as if something was missing.

Later that school year, they were all told that for homework, they had to ask their parents about what they did at work. Harry was saddened, as he knew nothing of his parents, aside from the fact that they had died when he was a baby.  
When he got home, he managed to gather enough courage to ask his Aunt and Uncle.  
"Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon?" He asked hesitantly.  
Instantly, the two adults turned to him. Harry resisted the urge to shrink back at the looks of hatred and disgust in their eyes.  
"What do you want?" Uncle Vernon barked.  
"I I..." Harry stuttered. "I was just wondering... What happened to my parents?"  
Both Dursleys glared at him.  
"They were good-for-nothing drunks who died in a car crash." Aunt Petunia replied. "Now get lost and don't ask questions."  
Harry quickly nodded and ran for the safety of his cupboard.  
The next day at school, he said nothing of his parents besides that they were dead. No one pushed him, and he was thankful.

When he was six, he began hiding from his cousin in the school library. He was amazed to see so many books. It was beautiful to his eyes.  
He wished to read them all. However, his attention was soon drawn to a section in the corner.  
The school librarian was surprised when she saw a six-year-old student in the poetry section, which was mainly used by the older years. She was further amazed to learn that he actually understood many of the complex sentences and similes. When she inquired how he could possibly understand such advanced literature, he merely shrugged and stated that he did not know, but that they simply clicked in his mind.  
From then on, Harry would take a poetry book from the library and read it under the tree in the school yard.

One day, while reading through one of the poetry books, he stumbled upon something that intrigued him. The mere word fascinated him. Something in his mind was just drawn to it. That feeling that he had always had in the back of his mind, of missing something, suddenly grew in intensity.  
He knew that it was not a good idea, but he had little choice. So he asked his Aunt and Uncle.  
"What is love?" He asked them hesitantly.  
The elder Dursleys frowned at him.  
"It is something that a freak like you doesn't deserve!" Uncle Vernon shouted before grabbing him by the collar of his baggy shirt and throwing him in his cupboard.  
"And don't ask questions!" The large man shouted before slamming the door, leaving Harry in complete darkness.

That night, Harry had a strange dream.  
He was lying on the mattress in his cupboard, under his thin blanket, when a mysterious figure came into his sight. He did not know how, but somehow, he knew this figure was a girl.  
Harry felt a sense of familiarity from this girl. Somehow, her presence brought him joy, but also sorrow. He felt that part inside of him that had always longed for something, and he felt as if he had found this something. For the first time in his life, he felt complete.  
However, this ended once he woke. Once again, he felt the sense of longing. However, this time, it was worse. He longed to see the girl again, to know her, to be close to her. His child's mind had no idea what was going on with him.  
From that night on, the girl was a frequent visitor in his sleep. Harry found himself both happy for her coming, but also dreading the moment he had to wake and leave her again.

When he was eight, he was tending the garden during the beginning of what he felt would become a horrible storm. He hoped to build some sort of shelter to protect the garden. However, he did not think that Aunt Petunia would allow it, for the simple reason that it would make life more difficult for Harry.  
He was about to retreat to the safety of his cupboard when he heard a noise. He looked up to the tree that was in the Dursleys' backyard. A high branch was breaking from the force of the wind. And on this branch, was a nest.  
Before Harry could think, the branch broke, and the nest began to fall. Without thinking, he ran and just managed to catch the nest in his arms.  
In the nest, were four small birds.

Later' in the safety of his cupboard, he lay the four birds on his mattress, examining them carefully. Three of them were for the most part fine, merely shocked from the experience. However, one was gravely injured.  
He cradled this bird carefully in his hand. It was so small, so delicate.  
He could feel its heart beating, could feel it frantically trying to stay alive.  
Harry's own heart began to race as he felt the life leaving the bird.  
"No." He muttered. "No, stay with me. Stay with me."  
He lifted the small bird to his face. He could feel his breathing quickening with his panic.  
He attempted to calm himself. He let out a breath, which hit the bird in his palm.  
Instantly, something strange happened. Just as Harry felt the bird's heart stop, it suddenly began again, beating quickly and steadily.  
It opened its eyes and look strate into Harry's own. It then, to Harry surprise jumped up and began chirping happily.  
Harry smiled. He was happy that the bird was alive. He silently hushed the bird, so the Dursleys did not hear it, and tucked it in with the other three.  
Harry smiled, though inwardly he was panicking.  
How had he done that? He could have sworn that bird was dead. So how...? Was this the freakishness that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were always talking about?  
Harry shook his head and decided to worry about it for another day.  
Once all four birds had recovered, they soon became Harry's constant companions. He was always careful to hide them from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. But when it was safe, they would constantly circle his head. This new development, while at first startling many people who saw him, quickly caused Harry to become more popular among the adults of Privet Drive. They now saw him as less of a delinquent, and more of an adorable little boy with the cutest birds. By some miracle, not a word of the birds got back to his relatives, which Harry was thankful for.

Harry was quietly standing in the shadows, observing two of the younger teachers from his school.  
Since he had first discovered the mysterious word "Love", he had spent several hours researching the concept. Harry had concluded that it was both simple and complex. There were many different kinds of love. The love that someone has for a friend, the love that someone has for their family. And, most complex of them all, the romantic kind of love. He had also concluded that the reason why he had not known what love was, was because he had never experienced love. He did not know if his parents had ever loved him, and he had never received any such affection from the Dursleys.  
He had also discovered a strange fascination with people who were in romantic relationships, though his young mind could barely wrap his mind around the concept. He found himself slightly envious of them, as he could sense that this kind of love was one of the stronger ones, and it somehow made him feel... Something.  
He enjoyed watching the young couples around him, how they interacted, talked, treated each other. Though some part of his childish mind was disgusted, another part of him found himself hoping that one day, he could find such a love.  
He had also discovered that many of these lovers faced obstacles in their relations. Not all couples agreed with each other. But sometimes, there was a third party who prevented the lovers from being together. Such as the case with these two.  
One of the teachers was the daughter of the Principal, who did not approve of his daughter dating a colleague. Harry could tell that they wanted each other, but their interactions were mostly secretive conversations and quick hand-holding.  
As the female teacher left her would-be-lover, Harry followed her silently. He was determined to help them, as he believed that all deserved to experience the feeling of love.  
"Miss O'Brian?" He called out.  
The teacher turned, startled, to see him. She of course recognised him. Who wouldn't, with his baggy warn out clothes, messy black hair and quartet of birds hovering around his head.  
"Oh, it's only you." She said. "Can I help you?"  
Harry smiled and Miss O'Brian could not help but feel her heart swell with joy with the beauty of such an expression.  
"Nope." He replied. "But I think I can help you."  
"Oh?" Miss O'Brian asked.  
Harry continued to smile.  
"Yeah, I can help you with Mr Wilson."  
Miss O'Brian gasped.  
;How do you...?"  
"I know these things." Harry replied, still smiling.  
"Well, errr..." Miss O'Brian spluttered. "You shouldn't have to worry about grown-up things..."  
"But I want to help." Harry argued. "Everyone deserves to be with the ones they love."  
"Well, that's very nice of you." Miss O'Brian began.?B I don't see how..."  
"Just wait and see." Harry said, smiling.

The next day, Harry sent an anonymous letter to Principal O'Brian, stating that he should stop being so over-protective of his daughter and allow her to date whomever she wished. He explained that, while it was understandable to not want her to date a fellow teacher, as this may cause a conflict of interest, he should trust that the two would be able to act professionally during work hours.  
Harry was delighted to see that only a week after he sent the letter, Miss O'Brian and Mr Wilson were both sitting together in the open, comfortable with their closeness. And thankfully, they were able to control themselves around the children.

When he was eight, Harry was running through the school yard away from Dudley and his gang. They were playing their favourite game of "Harry hunting". Though Harry was fast, he was also gravely outnumbered. That and they were all larger and stronger than he was.  
Soon, he came to a dead end. He hoped to be able to jump behind the bins outside of the school kitchens. But they were gaining to quickly. He had no time to hide.  
Dudley and his gang had court up with him. His cousin sneered at him while the others laughed.  
"Got you now freak." He said.  
Harry could feel his body fill with terror. Then, to his surprise, four little shapes appeared around his head.  
It was his birds.  
They circled around his head once, before flying strate at Dudley and his gang. Though they were small, they made up for it in the sharpness of their beaks and talons. Harry grinned as his four little friends scratched at the bullies.  
Then, Dudley hit one of the birds with his beefy hand. It fell to the ground, and Harry felt a sudden rage coursing through him. He felt as if a part of himself had been attacked. And so, he acted.  
Before any of the boys knew what was happening, Harry had punched and kicked them until they were covered in bruises and their own blood. Harry panted, surrounded by his fallen foes. Though he knew there would be hell to pay, he could not help but smile.

Later, once he got back to the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon picked him up roughly by his collar and slammed him hardly against the wall.  
"How dare you!" He bellowed, his face purple. "How dare you attack my son, after all we have done for you!"  
Harry tried to say something, anything, but the words just would not come.  
Uncle Vernon proceeded to slam him against the wall a few more times, before throwing him to the floor. Harry wrapped his arms around his chest, where his four birds lay protected from his uncle's wrath.  
Uncle Vernon took of his belt and began to beat Harry's fragile frame with it.  
No matter how much he screamed, how much he begged for it to stop, the man continued to swing the belt down. Harry could feel his vision blurring. He could feel blood trickling down his back. He could feel anger rising within him.  
And then, he snapped. Something, a strange power, that had been inside of him for so long, snapped out and threw Uncle Vernon against the wall. Harry, trembling, got to his feet. Despite the pain, despite the blood still trickling down his back, he still stood strong. His four birds then came out of his chest pocket and attacked the large man, just as they had done to Dudley and his gang.  
After about a minute, Harry decided he had to go. He called his birds and together, they ran from Number four, Privet Drive, forever.

With the strange power that flowed through him, Harry's wounds healed quickly. He travelled day and night, never stopping unless to rest. He found food in the wield, somehow knowing what plants were safe to eat. He did not know where he was going. He only went where his heart led him.  
Over land and see, through mountains and forests. He was a lost wanderer, looking for something that had been lost.  
Eventually, he came to a river. He sat at the riverbank, dangling his toes in the water. His births circled around his head.  
He looked around. Though there appeared to be no constructions around this area, he could not help but imagine a grand and beautiful hall, full of joy, music and laughter.  
He looked into the water and thought about his short life.  
For so long, he had felt alone. He had felt as if he did not belong.  
Now however, at this river, he felt something... Something inside of him that told him that he had found something he had not known he had been looking for. A home. Not just a home, his home.  
He looked to his left and could have sworn he saw the strange girl from his dreams, sitting beside him and smiling. He too, smiled.  
"Maybe I could stay here." He mused. "Maybe, just for a day and a night."  
He looked around the area again.  
"Or maybe, for day and night."

That night, Harry slept among the trees under a starry sky. For the first time in his life, he felt happy. He felt as if he had finally found his home.


End file.
